Title: Miss Congeniality
Summary: A/U...based on the movie, well, Miss Congeniality. Buffy Summers is a no-nonsense FBI agent, who is given the assignment to go undercover at the Miss America pageant.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine...don't sue.
Pairing: Spuffy...as always.
A/N: Hey, thanks for all the reviews! Now, I know that the first four chapters were suspiciously paralleled to the original MC, but it's gonna spin off into its own little world from here on in, with just a few hints and maybe scenes from the movie.
~
The sound of girlish laughter waved melodiously through the air as Buffy slowly trailed Faith into the pool room. Cordelia, Willow, Tara, and Anya were sitting in a circle, the only contestants brave enough to stand up against the dangerous time, which was cutting heavily into what should've been their beauty sleep.
"Hey guys! Buffy's here!" Willow leaped to her feet and encompassed Buffy into a warm hug, who awkwardly patted the excited red head on the back.
"Hi." Buffy replied, shifting on her feet.
"Come on! We're playing a spirited game of 'I never...'" Anya said, waving the three over.
"Faith might have a problem with that one." Buffy quipped. Faith smirked and shrugged.
"What can I say.I'm adventurous. In every, * every * sense of the word." She winked as the girls let out a unison screech of 'Oh my GOD!' Buffy rolled her eyes and let a tiny laugh slip out.
"Anyway, Willow's up." Cordelia said, flipping her hair back.
"Hmm...okay...I never ate sushi." She finished proudly.
"Please. That was incredibly boring. You're supposed to talk about orgasms. For example, "I never experienced multiple orgasms."" Anya explained.
"Okay then, Pennsy, you're up." Cordelia said with a yawn.
"Alright. I never * never * experienced multiple orgasms." This sent the girls into another laughing riot. Willow and Tara both turned bright red, but as they noticed each other's faces, they began to laugh as well.
"What? It's true." Anya said defensively.
"I'll bet it is, Blondie." Faith said, breaking the seal of her bottled water and downing a few sips.
"My hair is blonde with brown lo-lites." Anya corrected. Buffy cleared her throat.
"So. All that stuff about Mr. Longbower, pretty intense huh?" Cordelia stretched her fingers out.
"What's it to you?" Buffy shrugged.
"I was always a big fan. I just think it's sad that they'd fire a poor, old man just to replace him with someone younger. I mean, he's an American institution."
"Like Dick Clark." Anya interjected.
"Yeah, but Dick doesn't age." Faith explained, "Clemmy has, in a drastic sense." Buffy nodded and cast a sidelong glance to Cordelia.
"What do you think, Cordy?"
"I think it's sad that they feel like they have to get rid of him to boost ratings, but whatever's needed, I guess. It's not really our decision, is it?" Cordelia said, still avoiding Buffy's gaze.
"But, don't you sometimes wish that he could stay?" Buffy pressed.
"I love Clem." Cordelia rolled her eyes from some of the weirded-out looks from the girls, "Not * that * way, freaks! He's like a second father to me!" Cordelia clamped her hand onto her mouth, before closing her eyes. Buffy heard a muffled "Shit" come from behind her hand, as Cordelia shook her head regretfully. She opened her eyes and regained her posture, licking her lips and quirking her eyebrows before refocusing her attention on the girls, "I wasn't supposed to tell you that. I wasn't supposed to tell *anyone* that."
"So, aren't you really upset that he got fired?" Buffy asked, hoping to finally get something out of her.
"God, nosy much? If you must know, I'm * glad * they fired him. They overworked the poor guy, just * because * he's an American institution or whatever. And he would've * never * left; he thought that he had to appease everyone. He's * that * sweet and * that * unselfish. All I know is that if I were him, I would've quit years ago." Cordelia spat out. Buffy's eyes widened and she nodded, signaling the drop of the subject.
Back in the surveillance room, Spike tweaked a few mic buttons in order to hear the conversations more clearly. Oz bent down next to his friend/boss.
"Think she's bluffing?" Spike pursed his lips.
"I can't tell. It's always a possibility, but she seemed pretty genuine."
"Plus she's really hot." Xander replied, "It'd be too much of a disappointment if she was evil."
"Right. Always gotta take * that * into consideration." Spike replied sarcastically.
"I don't know. I'm kinda digging Rhodey over there." Oz pointed at Willow, "She's kinda unique."
"What about you Spike? Whose your favorite?" Graham asked, "I'm partial to Miss California, too."
New Jersey. Spike thought instinctively. However, he pretended to ponder the idea.
"Massachusetts, I guess. I like her attitude." Spike said, "She'd be hotter with a British accent though."
"You think all girls would be hotter with a British accent." Xander replied, accusingly.
"You can take the man outta London, but ya can't take the London outta the man, mate." Spike replied with a smirk.
"Cordy's innocent." Buffy's voice came from inside the mic. Spike leaned down.
"You sure, luv?"
Pause.
"What did you just call me?" Spike rolled his eyes.
"I'm sorry was that too derogatory? I call all the chits that, so don't think you're getting special treatment, * luv *." If Spike didn't know any better, he would've guessed Buffy had just giggled.
"Fine. But, yeah, she wasn't faking it. Genuinity all the way. Genuinity...is that a word?" Spike laughed and shrugged.
"Not sure, pet."
"Well, anyway. You can cross her off the list."
"What about Montana?" Xander asked, leaning over.
Buffy glanced over at the other, slightly awkward blonde.
"Not sure." She whispered, "The girl, like, seriously doesn't talk."
"Well, ya better make 'er, pet." Buffy felt another slight tingle go up her arms hearing Spike use a feminine nick name for her, but she ignored it.
"She's pretty close to Willow. Maybe I could use my position as "best friend" to my advantage."
"What do you mean pretty close?" Forrest asked.
Buffy snuck a glance at the two girls and watched as Tara covertly sniffed Willow's hair.
"Close."
~
"Buffy, look up!" Buffy stretched her neck out as she stared perkily at Giles who sat across from her.
"You're not a bloody ostrich, Summers. Relax a bit." Spike walked behind the "contestant" and ran his cool hands over her neck and shoulders before walking on. Buffy stole a peek at Spike's retreating back and frowned.
"Now, Miss Summers, what is your favorite type of music?" Buffy rolled her eyes and faced Giles.
"I like that head-banger heavy metal, about demon cults and cutting all the major arteries in your body. Really hits close to home with me." Giles slammed down the note cards and glared sourly at Buffy.
"Do you honestly think that you are humorous in even the slightest sense of the word?"
"I try." Buffy replied with a yawn.
"Well, don't. The label on the Tylenol bottle only allows a maximum of 4 per every 8 hours." Now it was Buffy's turn to glare.
"You don't even have to do this. I'm in the top 5."
"Still, don't you think that it would be somewhat confusing for the audience if you go up there and start talking about all of your feminist mumbo-jumbo, with absolutely no sentence structure, and still make it into the top 10, not to mention the top 5? Frankly, it would be a bit obvious that it was fixed."
"That's such a good point, it's just..." Buffy trailed off.
"It's just what?" Giles asked.
"It's just that I really, really don't care."
"I just have three more questions, then you can go to bed." Giles offered.
"Fine, go on Troll-from-Scene-24." Buffy said, only to meet a blank look from Giles.
"Sorry, pop culture reference."
"Now, have you read any good books lately?"
"I just finished reading The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold which gave me a new perspective on the aspects of life and death, while also making me aware of the ever growing issue of rape." Buffy replied, in a rehearsed fashion.
"Very good. Now if you could say that sans the stick up your arse, we would be grand." Buffy stuck her tongue out at the consultant and leaned back to glance at the clock.
12:04.
The morning dress rehearsal was going to be hell.
~
Buffy slowly moved her way out of the pavilion, ready to crash onto her nice, soft, comfy hotel bed with absolutely no distractions.
"Hey Summers! Wait up!" Buffy groaned inwardly before turning around to face Spike.
"Raleigh, it's 2 a.m. I'm tired." She whined, which only made Spike smile gently Cor, she's so beautiful. Spike widened his eyes No, no. Not beautiful. Or delectable, or gorgeous, or amazing, or any other bloody synonym. She's cute. Cute. Cute is safe...beautiful not so much.
"Hello, Mr. Zoney? What do you want?" Buffy jutted out her hip and crossed her arms expectantly. Spike swallowed a growing lump in his throat...not sure why he had called after her.
"Nothing, I guess." He finally said lamely, making a mental note to kick himself in the shins until they were black and blue.
Buffy rolled her eyes and began to walk away when she felt a hand grab her arm, sending a bolt of...dare she think it... * tingles * dance across her skin. She looked up at Spike, who was staring down at her, his mouth open, taking in air heavily. His eyes were dark and for a moment Buffy got a glimpse at the soul of the man behind the sarcasm. Buffy felt herself unconsciously move closer to him, so that they were barely inches apart.
"Spike?" She whispered a soft question.
Spike closed his eyes, unthinking, and began to lean in towards her lips which were pouted out just centimeters away. Buffy breathed in and tilted her head when a shrill voice called out.
"Miss Summers!" Buffy gasped and broke sharply away from Spike and locked her confused gaze with Spike's mirrored one. Giles stalked over, a gun in hand.
"Mr. Osbourne sent this. You left it behind." Buffy nodded numbly, taking the weapon. She stole a glance at Spike, who was pacing, muttering "Bloody hell..." over and over again to himself. Giles looked back and forth between the odd couple and just shook his head. Don't ask. Don't tell. Buffy slowly walked over to Spike after Giles left and rested a hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the contact and turned back to her, his face reddening.
"Look, Summers -" Buffy held up her hand.
"Don't. We're both tired, we both are frustrated with our work, and neither one of us was thinking a moment ago, okay? So let's just leave it at that and not mention this ever, * ever * again." Spike surprisingly felt his heart twist, but covered it up with a smirk.
"Took the words outta my mouth, pet." Buffy let out a breath she had been holding.
"Good." The two of them began walking back to her room in silence when Spike stopped.
"Although..." He started. Buffy turned around incredulously.
"Although what?"
"Maybe we should've gone through with that. I mean, I would've been honored to give you your first real kiss." Spike teased. Buffy's insides froze as Spike spoke a truth that she had always concealed. She was like the girl in that bad Drew Barrymore movie. She really had never been kissed.
However, she just sent a sardonic laugh through her lips.
"Guess that depends on your definition of real." Spike snorted.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy tapped her jaw line with a long finger and smiled devilishly.
"Let's just say some of the girls in the office talk about your inadequate lips...among other things." She cast a too-long glance at his crotch and giggled inwardly as his face paled even more than usual.
"What? That's not true. It can't be true!" Buffy had to laugh at his sullen tone of voice; which was almost as though he was a little boy who just found out the truth about Santa.
"Goodnight Spike." She said, opening her bedroom door and slipping in quietly.
Spike shook of his head, sure that she was just trying to get a rise out of him (she * had * to have been), walking away. He stopped and spun back around, seeing one last glimpse of blonde hair before she disappeared behind the screen door. He swallowed another lump in his throat and unconsciously wettened his lips, before widening them into a sad smile. He blinked his eyes downward and then up again. He cursed to himself, pulling out a cigarette.
"Goodnight...Buffy." He said as he lit the fag with a wistful sigh, "Goodnight."
Summary: A/U...based on the movie, well, Miss Congeniality. Buffy Summers is a no-nonsense FBI agent, who is given the assignment to go undercover at the Miss America pageant.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine...don't sue.
Pairing: Spuffy...as always.
A/N: Hey, thanks for all the reviews! Now, I know that the first four chapters were suspiciously paralleled to the original MC, but it's gonna spin off into its own little world from here on in, with just a few hints and maybe scenes from the movie.
~
The sound of girlish laughter waved melodiously through the air as Buffy slowly trailed Faith into the pool room. Cordelia, Willow, Tara, and Anya were sitting in a circle, the only contestants brave enough to stand up against the dangerous time, which was cutting heavily into what should've been their beauty sleep.
"Hey guys! Buffy's here!" Willow leaped to her feet and encompassed Buffy into a warm hug, who awkwardly patted the excited red head on the back.
"Hi." Buffy replied, shifting on her feet.
"Come on! We're playing a spirited game of 'I never...'" Anya said, waving the three over.
"Faith might have a problem with that one." Buffy quipped. Faith smirked and shrugged.
"What can I say.I'm adventurous. In every, * every * sense of the word." She winked as the girls let out a unison screech of 'Oh my GOD!' Buffy rolled her eyes and let a tiny laugh slip out.
"Anyway, Willow's up." Cordelia said, flipping her hair back.
"Hmm...okay...I never ate sushi." She finished proudly.
"Please. That was incredibly boring. You're supposed to talk about orgasms. For example, "I never experienced multiple orgasms."" Anya explained.
"Okay then, Pennsy, you're up." Cordelia said with a yawn.
"Alright. I never * never * experienced multiple orgasms." This sent the girls into another laughing riot. Willow and Tara both turned bright red, but as they noticed each other's faces, they began to laugh as well.
"What? It's true." Anya said defensively.
"I'll bet it is, Blondie." Faith said, breaking the seal of her bottled water and downing a few sips.
"My hair is blonde with brown lo-lites." Anya corrected. Buffy cleared her throat.
"So. All that stuff about Mr. Longbower, pretty intense huh?" Cordelia stretched her fingers out.
"What's it to you?" Buffy shrugged.
"I was always a big fan. I just think it's sad that they'd fire a poor, old man just to replace him with someone younger. I mean, he's an American institution."
"Like Dick Clark." Anya interjected.
"Yeah, but Dick doesn't age." Faith explained, "Clemmy has, in a drastic sense." Buffy nodded and cast a sidelong glance to Cordelia.
"What do you think, Cordy?"
"I think it's sad that they feel like they have to get rid of him to boost ratings, but whatever's needed, I guess. It's not really our decision, is it?" Cordelia said, still avoiding Buffy's gaze.
"But, don't you sometimes wish that he could stay?" Buffy pressed.
"I love Clem." Cordelia rolled her eyes from some of the weirded-out looks from the girls, "Not * that * way, freaks! He's like a second father to me!" Cordelia clamped her hand onto her mouth, before closing her eyes. Buffy heard a muffled "Shit" come from behind her hand, as Cordelia shook her head regretfully. She opened her eyes and regained her posture, licking her lips and quirking her eyebrows before refocusing her attention on the girls, "I wasn't supposed to tell you that. I wasn't supposed to tell *anyone* that."
"So, aren't you really upset that he got fired?" Buffy asked, hoping to finally get something out of her.
"God, nosy much? If you must know, I'm * glad * they fired him. They overworked the poor guy, just * because * he's an American institution or whatever. And he would've * never * left; he thought that he had to appease everyone. He's * that * sweet and * that * unselfish. All I know is that if I were him, I would've quit years ago." Cordelia spat out. Buffy's eyes widened and she nodded, signaling the drop of the subject.
Back in the surveillance room, Spike tweaked a few mic buttons in order to hear the conversations more clearly. Oz bent down next to his friend/boss.
"Think she's bluffing?" Spike pursed his lips.
"I can't tell. It's always a possibility, but she seemed pretty genuine."
"Plus she's really hot." Xander replied, "It'd be too much of a disappointment if she was evil."
"Right. Always gotta take * that * into consideration." Spike replied sarcastically.
"I don't know. I'm kinda digging Rhodey over there." Oz pointed at Willow, "She's kinda unique."
"What about you Spike? Whose your favorite?" Graham asked, "I'm partial to Miss California, too."
New Jersey. Spike thought instinctively. However, he pretended to ponder the idea.
"Massachusetts, I guess. I like her attitude." Spike said, "She'd be hotter with a British accent though."
"You think all girls would be hotter with a British accent." Xander replied, accusingly.
"You can take the man outta London, but ya can't take the London outta the man, mate." Spike replied with a smirk.
"Cordy's innocent." Buffy's voice came from inside the mic. Spike leaned down.
"You sure, luv?"
Pause.
"What did you just call me?" Spike rolled his eyes.
"I'm sorry was that too derogatory? I call all the chits that, so don't think you're getting special treatment, * luv *." If Spike didn't know any better, he would've guessed Buffy had just giggled.
"Fine. But, yeah, she wasn't faking it. Genuinity all the way. Genuinity...is that a word?" Spike laughed and shrugged.
"Not sure, pet."
"Well, anyway. You can cross her off the list."
"What about Montana?" Xander asked, leaning over.
Buffy glanced over at the other, slightly awkward blonde.
"Not sure." She whispered, "The girl, like, seriously doesn't talk."
"Well, ya better make 'er, pet." Buffy felt another slight tingle go up her arms hearing Spike use a feminine nick name for her, but she ignored it.
"She's pretty close to Willow. Maybe I could use my position as "best friend" to my advantage."
"What do you mean pretty close?" Forrest asked.
Buffy snuck a glance at the two girls and watched as Tara covertly sniffed Willow's hair.
"Close."
~
"Buffy, look up!" Buffy stretched her neck out as she stared perkily at Giles who sat across from her.
"You're not a bloody ostrich, Summers. Relax a bit." Spike walked behind the "contestant" and ran his cool hands over her neck and shoulders before walking on. Buffy stole a peek at Spike's retreating back and frowned.
"Now, Miss Summers, what is your favorite type of music?" Buffy rolled her eyes and faced Giles.
"I like that head-banger heavy metal, about demon cults and cutting all the major arteries in your body. Really hits close to home with me." Giles slammed down the note cards and glared sourly at Buffy.
"Do you honestly think that you are humorous in even the slightest sense of the word?"
"I try." Buffy replied with a yawn.
"Well, don't. The label on the Tylenol bottle only allows a maximum of 4 per every 8 hours." Now it was Buffy's turn to glare.
"You don't even have to do this. I'm in the top 5."
"Still, don't you think that it would be somewhat confusing for the audience if you go up there and start talking about all of your feminist mumbo-jumbo, with absolutely no sentence structure, and still make it into the top 10, not to mention the top 5? Frankly, it would be a bit obvious that it was fixed."
"That's such a good point, it's just..." Buffy trailed off.
"It's just what?" Giles asked.
"It's just that I really, really don't care."
"I just have three more questions, then you can go to bed." Giles offered.
"Fine, go on Troll-from-Scene-24." Buffy said, only to meet a blank look from Giles.
"Sorry, pop culture reference."
"Now, have you read any good books lately?"
"I just finished reading The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold which gave me a new perspective on the aspects of life and death, while also making me aware of the ever growing issue of rape." Buffy replied, in a rehearsed fashion.
"Very good. Now if you could say that sans the stick up your arse, we would be grand." Buffy stuck her tongue out at the consultant and leaned back to glance at the clock.
12:04.
The morning dress rehearsal was going to be hell.
~
Buffy slowly moved her way out of the pavilion, ready to crash onto her nice, soft, comfy hotel bed with absolutely no distractions.
"Hey Summers! Wait up!" Buffy groaned inwardly before turning around to face Spike.
"Raleigh, it's 2 a.m. I'm tired." She whined, which only made Spike smile gently Cor, she's so beautiful. Spike widened his eyes No, no. Not beautiful. Or delectable, or gorgeous, or amazing, or any other bloody synonym. She's cute. Cute. Cute is safe...beautiful not so much.
"Hello, Mr. Zoney? What do you want?" Buffy jutted out her hip and crossed her arms expectantly. Spike swallowed a growing lump in his throat...not sure why he had called after her.
"Nothing, I guess." He finally said lamely, making a mental note to kick himself in the shins until they were black and blue.
Buffy rolled her eyes and began to walk away when she felt a hand grab her arm, sending a bolt of...dare she think it... * tingles * dance across her skin. She looked up at Spike, who was staring down at her, his mouth open, taking in air heavily. His eyes were dark and for a moment Buffy got a glimpse at the soul of the man behind the sarcasm. Buffy felt herself unconsciously move closer to him, so that they were barely inches apart.
"Spike?" She whispered a soft question.
Spike closed his eyes, unthinking, and began to lean in towards her lips which were pouted out just centimeters away. Buffy breathed in and tilted her head when a shrill voice called out.
"Miss Summers!" Buffy gasped and broke sharply away from Spike and locked her confused gaze with Spike's mirrored one. Giles stalked over, a gun in hand.
"Mr. Osbourne sent this. You left it behind." Buffy nodded numbly, taking the weapon. She stole a glance at Spike, who was pacing, muttering "Bloody hell..." over and over again to himself. Giles looked back and forth between the odd couple and just shook his head. Don't ask. Don't tell. Buffy slowly walked over to Spike after Giles left and rested a hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the contact and turned back to her, his face reddening.
"Look, Summers -" Buffy held up her hand.
"Don't. We're both tired, we both are frustrated with our work, and neither one of us was thinking a moment ago, okay? So let's just leave it at that and not mention this ever, * ever * again." Spike surprisingly felt his heart twist, but covered it up with a smirk.
"Took the words outta my mouth, pet." Buffy let out a breath she had been holding.
"Good." The two of them began walking back to her room in silence when Spike stopped.
"Although..." He started. Buffy turned around incredulously.
"Although what?"
"Maybe we should've gone through with that. I mean, I would've been honored to give you your first real kiss." Spike teased. Buffy's insides froze as Spike spoke a truth that she had always concealed. She was like the girl in that bad Drew Barrymore movie. She really had never been kissed.
However, she just sent a sardonic laugh through her lips.
"Guess that depends on your definition of real." Spike snorted.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy tapped her jaw line with a long finger and smiled devilishly.
"Let's just say some of the girls in the office talk about your inadequate lips...among other things." She cast a too-long glance at his crotch and giggled inwardly as his face paled even more than usual.
"What? That's not true. It can't be true!" Buffy had to laugh at his sullen tone of voice; which was almost as though he was a little boy who just found out the truth about Santa.
"Goodnight Spike." She said, opening her bedroom door and slipping in quietly.
Spike shook of his head, sure that she was just trying to get a rise out of him (she * had * to have been), walking away. He stopped and spun back around, seeing one last glimpse of blonde hair before she disappeared behind the screen door. He swallowed another lump in his throat and unconsciously wettened his lips, before widening them into a sad smile. He blinked his eyes downward and then up again. He cursed to himself, pulling out a cigarette.
"Goodnight...Buffy." He said as he lit the fag with a wistful sigh, "Goodnight."